The Weight of Souls

33 The light seeker

Gabriel Oh rocked back and forth on his wheels, teeth on his bottom lip, pencil tapping the leather of his armrests. It didn’t make sense.

He had both The Tale of Oh-Fa and the Professor’s notebook open in front of him. The Tale described how Oh-Fa himself had found the image of Anubis carved into a stone tablet in the sand. He considered the text.

As I brushed sand aside, as I have done a million times before, the visage of a dog’s head on a man’s body resolved itself.

The Professor’s translation of the tablet Oh-Fa had discovered was scribbled over three pages in his book. The first part of the translation was a fairly standard curse. Gabriel had seen other similar stanzas when Emma had sought the right words to carve on the house, to protect herself and Taylor from the ghosts. He swallowed; he had to re-evaluate every memory of his wife. Regret every harsh word he’d ever said about the illness. But not now. He turned back to the curse:

“This is a way, but not the true way.

Death comes to he who enters the tomb

through the Darkness on clawed feet.

He will be nowhere and his house will be nowhere;

he will be one proscribed, one who eats himself.”

In The Tale the beast was described as having clawed feet. He paged through until he found the passage. Then he muttered out loud. A clawed foot slid towards me…

So the threat was quite literal. Anyone who entered the tomb the wrong way would be killed by the clawed beast waiting inside. “And they entered the wrong way,” he muttered. “They walked into the darkness, straight into a beast waiting to kill them.”

That did make sense. But the second part of the translation did not.

“He who is in the place of embalming.

Is hungry for the world.

Bound to the queen’s tomb by the priests of Horus.

Until the coming of the light-seeker –

Not living, not dead, not a child, not a man.”

As for him who shall destroy this inscription: He shall not reach his home. He shall not embrace his children. He shall not see success.

“He who is in the place of embalming” was another name for Anubis. Given that the first half of the curse appeared to have come true, could the rest of the inscription be taken seriously?

“Bound to the queen’s tomb by the priests of Horus.”

Gabriel booted up his computer then nodded to himself; Horus had been Anubis' enemy.

The beast had named himself to Oh-Fa: “If I kill you there will be no more death for Anubis.”

So the priests of Horus had somehow bound the god Anubis to the tomb of the dead queen.

And he was stuck there until the coming of the light seeker.

Gabriel’s mind span over Taylor's words when she had returned to him: “He led us towards the light.”

A chill numbed Gabriel until his whole body felt as dull as his useless legs. The pencil dropped from his frozen fingers.

“Not living, not dead. Justin was dead, but he had Taylor's life-force.” His chair shuddered as he started to move, to shake. “Not a child, not a man – they wouldn't have had the word 'teenager' back then.” His rubbed his face with his hands.

If the Professor's translation was correct, then Taylor and the ghost with her had just given Anubis what he needed to free himself.

Sick to the core he gripped the image of his wife, the one that always sat on his desk. “Can I believe this?” He looking into her eyes; caught on camera in a rare moment of light-hearted humour. “I didn't believe you. I must have made your life so much more difficult.” Tears wet his stubbled chin. “I'm sorry.”

He rubbed the picture like an aged Aladdin, somehow hoping she would speak back to him. “But this. Is it one step too far? Am I now being too credulous, believing the one thing I should not? Who would I even tell, what warning could I give?” The picture remained only that and he replaced it sadly next to the paired books.

“No.” He shook his head. “This I don’t believe.”

He closed the books and headed for the door. Taylor and Justin were due home from school soon and he owed her some time and hot chocolate. For at least one day, the family curse could wait.